A Letter From His Father
by Ceara Ivory
Summary: Voldemort, at the dawn of his victory, finds a letter that Dumbledore kept from him for unknown reasons. A Letter From His Father.


A Letter From His Father

Written by Chibikan

AN: This is a fic exploiting one of my theories concerning Tom R. Sr. and Merope Gaunt.

Summary: A oneshot. Voldemort won the war. He now has complete control over the Ministry, has all of Hogwarts as his fortress, and the entire wizarding world as his slave. Everything is just peachy, until he discovers something Dumbledore had kept from him all those years ago.

Life was good. He had everything he'd ever wanted. Everything. Voldemort was now the supreme ruler of the wizarding world and would no doubt conquer the muggle world next. Oh yes, the muggles would pay for the way he was treated as a child. They would pay for spawning the man who had impregnated his mother and then dropped her like a sack of old potatoes.

Taking a seat in his newly claimed office, Voldemort looked around, basking in his glory. He smirked when the child inside realized that he could do whatever he wanted now, without fear of reprimand. He remembered the battle. How, in the end, his power had triumphed over the little boy who was prophesied to be his end. How that little boy had died by his wand. Oh it was glorious, a wondrous feeling that welled up inside at the memory. With the fall of his adversary, whom, he was not ashamed to admit, had indeed proved quite the challenge, the rest of the European Ministry had surrendered without much resistance. Many Death Eaters who had turned back to the light had returned to him in the end, adding to his feeling of ecstasy.

But….something bothered the Dark Lord too. Something lingering deep in the recesses of his mind. The way the boy had looked at him as the light died from his eyes. It wasn't hate, no. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even denial. Why, he could swear it was…..shudder…..pity. Now why would Potter pity him? It made no sense.

For lack of anything else to do, Voldemort decided to examine the desk in front of him. He opened and looked through drawers extensively. He flipped through the old Headmaster's papers for anything interesting. And something interesting, he did indeed find.

TO: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE JR.  
FROM: BETERS AND BETERS ATTORNEYS AT LAW

It was a rather thick yellowed envelope, obviously muggle. But how had it gotten here? Why was it addressed to him? Why had Dumbledore had it? Why was it never given to him? This had been here a very long time, judging by the yellowness of just the envelope itself. He could only imagine the condition of the papers inside. Flipping it over, fighting the urge to open the parcel, even though, as it was his, he had the right to know. He noted quickly that it was already open. Who had read his mail? Even he wasn't so cold as to screen someone's mail (Yes, mail was sacred, you don't touch if it's not yours, was his everlasting stand on the situation).

Finally curiosity overwhelmed him, he had to know. Opening the thick envelope he pulled out a sheath of papers. They were monogrammed, signed, in duplicate, triplicate, and even stamped with a notary's seal.

_The Last Will and Testament of Thomas Samuel Riddle_

_I, Thomas Samuel Riddle, being of sound mind and body do hereby name my son, born January 1st 1926, christened Tom Marvolo Riddle, as the sole of heir of the Riddle name and fortune._

Voldemort's eyes widened. His father's will. His father had remembered HIM in his will? But, what about….oh never mind. He flipped through the immense will dictating everything that belonged to him legally upon the death of his father, which had happened years before, by his own hand. It was enough to make his head spin. All the legal jargon and jazz was enough to leave anyone a bit dizzy. But while the long legal document, complete with forms waiting for his signature, was indeed overwhelming, the last paper, a personal letter, was the one that tipped all the scales.

_To my only, my dearest son:_

_I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I could not see leaving you all this without an explanation. You probably learned, growing up, that your mother had me drugged into loving her, and then released me from her spell at which point, I up and left. Well you were lied to. There was never any spell or potion or what not. I knew going in, that she was a witch. But, thehre were problems. I loved your mother, make no mistake of that. The reason I left her, was to protect her, and you. You probably heard a great deal about my relatives. They weren't a very caring lot. They were a very greedy, power hungry crew who would stop at nothing to get at my legacy. They disapproved of my marriage to your mother from the start. And when she became pregnant, they became even worse. Disapproval went to deadly hatred in five minutes. They were planning to kill Merope, through poison at a dinner they planned to "celebrate". It was only through the gardener, Frank Bryce, that I learned otherwise. He had heard their little plot, and told me instantly, for he had a fondness for your mother. Your mother and I in turn, hatched our own plan. As much as it killed us both to do it, we decided to have a falling out of sorts. We would make it appear as though I had been bewitched into marrying her, and as consequence would leave her. And while I was making them aware of the destruction of our marriage, she would flee. While she was gone, I was to write up this will and have it all legal by time of your birth and then this would be given to you when you came of age, with me making frequent, unsuspicious visits to your mother and yourself. I did not expect Merope to become ill so suddenly. When I heard of her death, it was all I could not to rush to the orphanage and rescue you. You see, if I done so, my family would merely have tried to kill you too, to keep you from inheriting. I had to protect you son. You probably think that I hate you. You couldn't be more wrong. When you were growing up, I watched over you, in secret. I even learned that little lullaby that nice lady, not Mrs. Cole, but the other one, the one who was fired mere months after she got on at the orphanage. My son, I have always loved you. After you read this, never have any doubt of that. And please, forgive me for never telling you sooner._

_Sincerely, Your Father,_

_Tom Riddle Sr._

Voldemort's eyes widened. His world had just come crashing down around him. He'd built an entire war out of the belief that his father had not wanted him. He'd hated muggles for what his father did. And now he was learning that his father had done it to protect him and that he did love him and his mother. He'd wanted revenge on the muggles, and it turned out to be over nothing. How could he be such a fool. And he realized, this was why Potter had such a look on his face. He had known. He'd probably found it while looking through the office for a potential weapon. He had found it, and read it and he had known.

And now so did he. He felt an iciness begin to melt inside of him. His heart, his emotions, buried for so long under deep mounds of snowballing hate was beginning to resurface. A moisture touched his face and he realized he was crying. What had he done? He'd destroyed everything he ever wanted! He'd destroyed it. He'd destroyed the only thing that he had ever REALLY wanted in the entire universe. And he'd never get it back. Love…..

AN: I know, very angstish. But it seemed like the perfect plan. Ever since the flashback concerning the love potion in HBP I couldn't help but think up this theory. R&R please. I like reviews, I really do. BTW, I'm thinking of using the story told by TR Sr, as the plot for a new story. Let me know if I should, okay.


End file.
